


Teamwork

by Daegaer



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Assassins, Friendship, Gen, Psychic Abilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-09
Updated: 2004-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-23 03:51:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nagi fits into his team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teamwork

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Tosca's Kiss' birthday.

The Kritiker agents should have surprised them and killed them all. A split second before the firing started Crawford yelled "Down!" and the four of them hit the ground. Nagi didn't have time to think, just rolled under a car and peered out looking for targets. Crawford was up and running, dodging enemy fire, Farfarello was going straight for one of the ambushers, not stopping for minor reasons like being shot. Schuldig was shooting apparently blindly, but presumably at whoever was thinking the loudest. No one seemed to have noticed Nagi at all. He looked around, as best he could and made one of the men fighting Crawford fall over and crack his skull on the concrete. From the sounds, Farfarello was enjoying himself too much to need help. He looked to the side in time to see one of the Kritiker kick Schuldig in the hip, making him stagger and fall to one knee. Schuldig dropped his pistol as the agent kicked his shoulder, and the heavy pistol slid across the ground towards Nagi. He watched in fascination as the Kritiker drew a gun and aimed at Schuldig's head, stopping suddenly as Schuldig's eyes met his. A second figure stepped out of the darkness, pistol drawn.

"Back me up, Nagi!" Schuldig yelled, as the second Kritiker also stopped moving.

Nagi could see that both agents were fighting to regain control. It would be easy to bring Schuldig's gun right into his hand, and to shoot the enemy. He imagined his hand weighed down with the gun, the kick as he fired, and then the enemy falling. He shuddered at the thought. He didn't want to draw anyone's attention. The others usually did any fighting that needed to be done without him. They were all experienced fighters, and he wasn't. The thought of taking Schuldig's fallen pistol and joining the physical fight, or even of making the Kritiker drop their guns was terrifying. He didn't know if there were other enemy agents around. He could be shot by someone he couldn't even see, he could be killed. Schuldig was used to this, he could take care of himself.

"Nagi!"

A third armed man stepped towards Schuldig, and pulled the trigger. Schuldig screamed in pain and the other two agents swung their guns round and fired. The third man collapsed, sprawling on the cement, and Nagi saw the other two begin to shake in bewildered horror as they regained control of their minds. Schuldig fell on his face and lay there, unmoving. Farfarello was there, suddenly, a wide grin on his face as he stabbed one of the enemy in the heart. The second agent turned and ran, but Farfarello moved fast when he was having fun, and the man died before he could even reach the shadows.

Nagi crawled out from beneath the car and stood slowly, picking up the fallen pistol. Crawford sprinted past him, kneeling to turn Schuldig over. A stream of German he was glad he couldn't understand reassured Nagi that all was well. Schuldig clambered upright, clutching at his arm, and glared at him.

"I told you to back me up! You little coward, you don't hide in the middle of a fight!"

"I knew you'd be all right," Nagi said nervously.

"You _knew_? You little bastard, don't you even try to pull that on me. I told you to back me up!"

Schuldig advanced on him fast, raising a hand holding something dark, and Nagi remembered he had more than one gun. He struck out mentally, meaning to push Schuldig away, and watched as he fell hard on his side. Schuldig swore, and was up faster than Nagi had thought, outright murder in his face. Panicked, Nagi struck out again, imagining Schuldig's throat constricting. The man stopped like he'd run into a wall, fighting for breath. He dropped a piece of cloth, dark with blood. There was no gun in his hand, and Nagi could see the sleeve of his jacket was red and sodden. He'd made Schuldig fall on a wound, he realised, and felt the overwhelming need to stop, to let him go. He fought it, knowing it was Schuldig's influence.

"Stop this!" Crawford said.

"He'll kill me!" Nagi said in despair. If Schuldig hadn't wanted to kill him before he certainly wanted to now.

 _You let me go or damn right I'll kill you, and I'll do it slow, you little fucker._

"Stop it," Nagi whispered, as his head began to hurt from the effort of forcing Schuldig out of his mind, "stop it."

"Let him go!" Crawford yelled. "Let him go _now_ , Nagi."

"No, he'll kill me," Nagi said, forcing the words out past the pain, and imagining Schuldig's neck breaking. He found he couldn't concentrate as pain exploded in a more physical way across his skull, and the world tilted sideways as he fell over. He had forgotten Farfarello, he thought. How stupid. His last sight was Schuldig falling heavily, his face slack and unseeing.

  


* * *

  
He woke up in his own bed. Everything seemed far away and pleasant. There was a slight pain in his arm, but it wasn't important. He smiled weakly at Crawford.

"Hello," he said. "Everything's fuzzy."

"Drugs," Crawford said, holding up the syringe for him to see. "I want you happy and mentally scattered, Nagi. Do I need to give you more, or are you going to behave?"

"Behave," Nagi said, wishing he could go back to sleep.

"Good. You tried to kill Schuldig. I'm not happy with you."

"Was goin' to kill me," Nagi slurred.

"Don't be stupid," Crawford said contemptuously. "He was going to shout at you for letting him get shot. You should have backed him up." He looked at Nagi disgustedly. "When the drugs wear off a bit you're going to make your peace with him. We need you both. Don't screw up again."

"No, Crawford-san," Nagi said, "sorry."

"It's not me you have to say that to," Crawford said. "You'll be able to think more clearly soon, _don't_ start another fight. You won't win one with the drugs still in your system."

"No, Crawford-san," Nagi said again, closing his eyes. He was shaken awake and saw in surprise that over thirty minutes had passed.

"Up," Crawford said, and watched him stand, not putting out a hand to steady him as he swayed, dizzy.

Nagi followed him meekly out of the room and went into Schuldig's room after him, not raising his eyes.

"Here he is," Crawford said. "No fighting, either of you."

He left, and Nagi stood there in silence, looking at his feet. He could feel the weight of Schuldig's glare, and decided he would be safest not saying much, contenting himself with staring down.

 _You tried to kill me, you stupid kid._

"I'm very sorry, Schuldig-san," he said politely.

 _You tried to kill me and all you can say is "sorry"?_

"I didn't mean it," Nagi said, "I wouldn't have really."

The laughter in his mind was humourless and unpleasant.

"Won't you say something, Schuldig-san?" he said, disliking the silent conversation.

"It hurts to talk," Schuldig said hoarsely in a voice that barely rose above a whisper. _And you could have the manners to look at me while I'm speaking._

Nagi looked up and flinched away from the fury in Schuldig's face. He was sitting back in a chair, one foot up on his desk and looking anything but relaxed. There were dark bruises on his throat, and his wounded arm was heavily bandaged; Nagi looked back down at the carpet, appalled. The memory of Schuldig's struggles weakening and Crawford yelling at him were too much, and he swallowed heavily.

"I didn't mean it, I didn't," he said in a gabble.

The chair crashed over as Schuldig jumped up. "Of course you meant it!" he shouted. "God _damn_ , that hurts." He advanced on Nagi, who watched him nervously. _Of course you meant it. You thought I was going to attack you, Crawford said. That's the_ proper _thing to do when you're being attacked._

Nagi looked at him in hope. "So you're not annoyed with me, Schuldig-san?"

 _I'm fucking furious with you, you stupid little fucker. You idiot, you thought_ I _was going to attack you? Your teammate? We're all in this together - you really fucked up, not helping out in the fight and then pulling this little stunt. You think being new means you can act like that?_

"I know you don't like me," Nagi said, stung, "I've tried to be friends --"

"Spare me," Schuldig said, and broke off, grimacing. He sipped water and watched Nagi coldly. _We're not your friends, he went on, we're more important than that. Have you forgotten what it means to be one of us?_

"Estet --," Nagi started.

 _Fuck Estet_ , Schuldig went on, _we're Schwarz._ All _of us, Nagi, you too._

Nagi looked at him silently. Whether or not the shameful unease he felt was Schuldig in his head, the man was right, he had let down the team. He bowed politely. It seemed the safest thing to do.

"I really am sorry, Schuldig-san," he said, holding the bow. "You're right to be angry."

 _You idiot._ The voice in his head seemed less cold. _Just don't do it again. And it's just "Schuldig". Save the courtesies for the idiots who pay us. You stand up straight when you talk to us._

Nagi straightened up to see a smirk come back onto Schuldig's face. "Come on," he said in the hoarse whisper, "let's go and tell Crawford we've kissed and made up."

He put a heavy hand on Nagi's shoulder and steered him out the door and down the corridor. In their little living room Crawford and Farfarello were watching the news of Estet's latest offensive being reported in tones of bewildered shock. Crawford looked up from his armchair as they entered.

"Well?"

"Everything's fine," Schuldig said in a voice that sounded almost normal.

Nagi wondered how much pain the effort of not whispering cost him, and the fingers on his shoulder tightened slightly as if to tell him to mind his own business. There was a short silence as Crawford and Schuldig looked at each other, and Nagi knew they were discussing him.

"Good," Crawford said at last, and turned back to the news.

Schuldig pushed Nagi toward one of the armchairs and went to the table, returning with two mugs of coffee left over from the others' dinner. He presented one to Nagi with elaborate, amused courtesy and sat on the other end of the couch from Farfarello.

"See?" he said, "we don't have to like each other to get along."

"Thanks," Nagi said as casually as he could, and drank. It was lukewarm and awful, but it was a peace offering of sorts and he felt better for it.

"I like you all," Farfarello said mildly.

Nagi allowed himself to join in Crawford and Schuldig's laughter when he saw the smile on Farfarello's face and understood it was a joke, happy to be accepted again so easily. The others laughed even louder when Schuldig broke off in a fit of coughing, and Nagi grinned with nasty humour. Schuldig was right, he thought, Schwarz was better than having friends. With friends he'd have to be nice all the time, and hide what he was. With Schwarz he just had to play his part in the team and be valued for what made him a freak. Yes, he thought, as Schuldig got the coughing under control and cursed them all, better to have a place with Schwarz than all the friends in the world.


End file.
